The Warmth of Chaos
by Derelict
Summary: AU-Yaoi-Riku & Sora are players in the Massive Multiplayer Online Role-playing Game (MMORPG), known as The World of Chaos. When a chance meeting in the game leads them to odd situations, and ultimately chaos, how will they deal with who they really are?
1. World 2: Miza Craters

I liked where this chapter left off, so that's why it's a bit short.And 'cause of the whole MMORPG idea, the format will be … a little odd.

By the way, this story begins on Falaphesian's birthday– She put up with me, and that itself deserves an award… So, although the majority of us have already been awed by her astounding writing skills, if you haven't yet read any of her fics… You're, quite honestly, missing out.

And, now, on to the story!

…

Oh, the disclaimer:

**DISCLAIMER: **Kingdom Hearts and all related characters, objects, conceptual designs and worlds belong solely to Square Enix and Disney. This is a fan produced work, of which the author is making no profit, and the bare bones of the plot are the only fundamental things that she may lay claim to.

X X X

**World 2: Miza Craters **

**blitz.juggler** Well, that was bo-ring. Not one sign of the port to World 3 – and we've been here for four weeks. _Four_ weeks, Riku. Four weeks as in a **_month_**

**sylver.scythe** Tidus. Shut up. Do you see that crater?

**blitz.juggler** Uh, sure. There's only about a couple hundred out here. Oh, you mean the one that's spawning heartless?

**sylver.scythe** Sarcasm doesn't carry well over Voice Modification… Yeah, that one. Do you see the red portal in the middle?

**blitz.juggler** Of course Riku. I _always _stare at the middle of craters when mini-assassins whose only goal in life is to kill innocent players like me are spawning out. And you know what? I haven't saved since the Canal Courtyard – which means I'll lose that mythril blade I won.

**sylver.scythe** Then I suggest you run. Not that way - _towards _the portal. If we can make it, we can save the game there and log out. And we _do_ have that blitzball game in an hour…

**blitz.juggler** No pressure, right? Nothing on stake besides what we've been trying to find for the last month… Last one there is… is… well, dead…

**sylver.scythe** Shall we?

Pulling out weapons, a mythril encrusted silver scythe and a lance, the duo weaved through the throng of 'Paradox Heartless'. Riku grinned, as he tightened his grip on the hilt of his scythe, bringing it up in a neat arc to slice through a nearby Wyvern, orange shoes skidding on the purple blood of his foe.

Nearby, Tidus lunged, twirling his olive-tinted lance before getting it stuck in the iron armor of a Soldier Heartless. Wincing at the metal-on-metal noise that came out of twisting the blade of the lance, which was stuck between the shoulder blade and shoulder armor of the heartless, he swiftly changed his hold on the weapon. Using it like a spear, he cleared a swarm of heartless, with the soldier heartless still embedded. Grimacing at the spurting maroon blood, he pulled the lance down, effectively disemboweling the writhing creature. He moved on, grumbling at the unsightly thick blood now sheeting the rocky ground of the craters.

Meanwhile, Riku had decided to completely annihilate a larger-than-life size heartless after it somehow managed to splatter purple blood across his digitally assembled clothes. He was well on his way to finishing it off, hacking and slicing through it, when a couple of his comrades made a decision of their own; to surround and kill the attacker of their companion.

Standing just inside the outer rim of the crater stood a whooping Tidus, pumping his fist into the air--having just saved his game. He turned around, not to find the expected sight of Riku waving, but to find the silver haired blur completely surrounded by an assortment of about twenty rotund, plus-sized heartless (possibly training to be sumo wrestlers) of which seemed to be doubling rapidly.

**blitz.juggler** Oh shit.

Tidus lunged, sprinting, towards the ring of heartless. He singled out a lumbering, vividly-clad one, jumping and jabbing his lance into its head, twisting it around, before pulling sharply down and out, at the same time pushing off and landing on the ground.

He continued on to the next heartless, this time cutting a ragged line through it's stomach. Jumping back, he pushed stray strands of his dark olive hair out of his eyes, focusing on the seven or so heartless that he had successfully drawn the attention of. As they ran at him, two with bloodied claws raised, he attacked, lance held in both hands, as it carved into the seemingly real flesh of the heartless.

While Tidus was occupied with his adversaries, Riku was having his own troubles with the heartless. They had developed some sort of strategy, weaker ones flinging themselves at him and larger and more powerful ones attacking while he fought to rid himself of the clinging menaces.

The blades, scythe and lance, were covered in synthetic blood, with pieces of heartless hide stuck in a nauseating pattern to the digital metal. The blood felt real, if a shade darker and with more of a purple tinge, as it smacked the puddles littering the ground. The owners of those drenched blades were clothed in an attire similarly covered in graphically-enhanced liquid.

Ignoring those normally-disturbing facts, they continued to attack and hack at their adversaries, focused on killing, and gaining more experience points.

X X X

Close by, yet unnoticed by the swarming masses of heartless, was a short, lone figure. Dark ebony attire clung to his scrawny form, a vivid contrast to his pale ashen complexion. His bronze tresses were held together by a simple band, with the exception of a few copper locks. Azure eyes gazed at the scene in front of them—a silver haired scythe-wielder was being attacked by a horde of advanced large body heartless, while a malachite-haired lance player was futilely trying to help defeat them off.

Were they beginning players? Or were they just incredibly foolish to take on heartless of this magnitude? With a sigh that sounded somewhat like a snort, he took off, revealing a cerulean short-blade. About fifty feet away from the nearest heartless, he momentarily paused his sprint upon hearing a bloodthirsty screech, a pained yell, and seeing a large spurt of fiery scarlet blood, accompanied by a momentarily blinding flash of light; unbearable in the usually monotonous darkness of the craters.

Uh oh. One of the players was dead now… That wasn't good for the odds. A swift glance revealed the slowly disintegrating newly-turned-gray corpse of the lance-player. Flinging his blade at the nearest creatures, he shrugged the player's death off. He was sure he had seen them save at the save point… or at least seen one of them save.

Leaping to retrieve his weapon, he quickly finished off a trio of dark assassins, slicing through their synthetic flesh and attacking the softer weak points. He smiled happily as a screen granting bonus points appeared for attacking that particular spot. He moved on, granting several other heartless a sweet and remotely painless death; that is, if they could feel pain.

Further mocking the heartless by wearing a confident grin, the lithe, dark-clad player went on, sending the writhing, black monsters on a trip to oblivion. Slashing past, he ensured slow deaths for some, while flinging his blade through others, killing them instantly.

In about fifteen minutes, with the combined efforts of the remaining two players, the craters were once more barren and desolate. Heading over to a bulging mass of purple wiggling slightly against the dark purplish blood of the heartless, the dark-clad entity knelt down, sharply turning his head when he heard a voice.

**sylver.scythe** Err… Thanks?

Standing up and turning to face the being who had spoken, he replied, blinking awkwardly at the player who was, in fact, taller than him.

**beyondoblivion** Anytime.

He crouched back down, returning his attention back to the questionable writhing substance. Prodding it from all four sides, he sighed, grimacing as he thrust his hand into it. The silver-haired scythe player watched on in bewilderment as the copper-haired player, who'd saved his virtual life, wiggled his hand around the inside of the purple mass of gelatin-like substance.

After a few tension filled moments, the savior withdrew his black-gloved hand with a quiet '_sluuurp'_.While swiping awkwardly at the lumps of jelly coating his arm, he tried to explain the presence of a red orb clasped tightly in his fist.

**beyondoblivion** Found it. I knew it was a Sphere of Regeneration that made those heartless double like that!

**sylver.scythe** Oho. Thanks for the clarification. I could _never _have lived without knowing that.

**beyondoblivion** Hey, I saved your sorry ass back there!

**sylver.scythe** _Sorry ass_? **Sorry _ass_**? My ass is **_not_ **sorry.

**beyondoblivion** Oh, my bad. You have a very happy ass. It is definitely not _sorry. _

With an angry swish of long silver locks, the scythe wielder crouched down next to the kneeling player, leaning on the mythril scythe for support. Eye contact was made, and they both looked furiously at each other, willing the other to turn away first. The scythe player broke off contact with a snort, in favor of glaring at the maroon orb.

**sylver.scythe** Alright, even though I could have taken on those heartless by myself, thanks for _assisting_ me.

The words sounded ground out, and the copper-haired player nodded, grinning up at the scythe wielder.

**sylver.scythe** So, you were saying… That red ball makes things double?

**beyondoblivion** Well, I dunno. 'Regenerate' means to revive, so the orb would just revive them – but back there, you saw that they were doubling.

**sylver.scythe** Oho… So the whole doubling thing isn't normal?

**beyondoblivion** I don't think so, but I might just have the definition of 'Regenerate' wrong.

**sylver.scythe** Oh, shit!

**beyondoblivion** I beg your pardon?

**sylver.scythe** Sorry—I have a Blitzball game in about 15 minutes…

**beyondoblivion** No pro—Blitzball? So you live on the Islands?

**sylver.scythe** Yeah. On one of the outer ones, Oceania. Why? Do you?

**beyondoblivion** Yeah, on Fizu. You go to school over here, don't you? Since it_ is _the main island?

**sylver.scythe** Fizu? That must be expensive… _Wait -_ How'd you know I go to school? I could be a forty-year-old half-bald guy…

**beyondoblivion** Sure, a Blitzball playing forty-year-old… All the major teams are out, so only the high school teams and the private teams could be playing now.

The brunet watched as his new acquaintance blinked, before the statement actually sunk in.

Grumbling, she then stumbled onto her feet. Unsticking her scythe from where she'd stabbed it into the ground to lean on; she slung it over her shoulder, heading out to the portal to save. Reaching a hand out to the swirling gate, she supposedly saved as gate emitted a short, sharp light. The scythe player looked over her shoulder one last time, blinking over at the short brunet.

He stood up, pushing up on one leather-covered arm, grinning and waving back at her. Tossing the mesmeric crimson orb from hand to hand, he watched as the player logged off, the pixilated colors fading into the background of the craters.

After hearing the familiar chime to indicate a player logging off, he was left staring at where she had been a few minutes earlier.

**beyondoblivion** A _female _Blitzball playing forty-year-old?

X X X

This chapter has been edited after being reread about a hundred times, and finding all these things wrong with it…

Like the previous characterization of **beyondoblivion** would never have worked… I don't know what I was thinking.

Also, there was a pretty format before, but now it seems that doesn't support symbols that well… So, you have a bunch of bold names. Not as pretty, but it works.

And, in case anyone wants to beta for a ridiculous little writer with sporadic updates, and random plotlines dancing around… I'm open!

Yes... So let's hope that this update added some length onto the painfully short chapter of before.

(Oh, and since it **is** an update, I'd like to thank all my reviewers. You're what keep me motivated!

Okay, I lied. Nothing motivates my sorry ass.)

Oof. I mean, I'll update if you review! Yes, that's how it goes… Writers are supposed to grovel for reviews, aren't they?

And to all my silent readers, I love you very, very much. Because you know I just wasted a load of your time.

Ehehe.


	2. Distinction

Thank you all for sticking with me… since I haven't updated in about a year… And since the previous chapter was 100 pure, unconcentrated, crap. And yes, unconcentrated is not a word. Or so spellchecker says... Damn thing won't bow down to my supreme powers of manipulation. Tee hee. Yes, I am on a sugar high. Or actually a sugar/salt high. So this chapter will be more crap. Unadulterated crap. And yes, unadulterated is, unfortunately, a real word.

X X X

******Chapter II – Distinction**

X X X

Riku rubbed his temples, casually unhooking his headphones and adjusting the attached microphone. Well, that was interesting. Dropping his headphones on top of the computer, he leaned over and turned the monitor off.

He leant back, balancing his chair carefully enough that it wouldn't tip over. Clasping his hands at the nape of his neck, Riku let his eyes slide shut. He really didn't want to go to that blitzball game. But he'd be damned before he let a whole month of practices go to waste. And besides, the Lochs were a pushover.

Reveling in new found energy, Riku stretched, jumping off his chair. Humming as he pulled a duffel bag out from under his bed. Unzipping it, he ran his hand through the red bag. He had his Destati uniform, a fleecy white towel—he didn't trust the ones that were handed out—and… it. Riku paused, pulling out a small charm from the nether regions of his red duffel bag. It was small, and the link that would normally have connected it to a bracelet or a necklace was broken. Smiling fondly, Riku stroked it gently with his thumb, putting it carefully on his computer desk.

There'd be time for reminiscing later, but glancing at the glaring red numbers on his digital clock, Riku realized that there wasn't really enough time to go all sappy now.

He hurried, sidestepping the clothes strewn across his floor, zipping up his bag on the way. Flinging his bedroom door open, Riku sprinted down the stairs and out of the house. He barely missed his mum, who had her mouth half-open, as if she wanted to say something. Letting her mouth close, her face lighted up in a tender smile, looking over at her son. Or rather, where her boy had been a few moments ago. Sighing, Aruna turned back to her magazine.

X X X

Riku sneezed, unconsciously rubbing at his nose as he hurried to the dock. He loved living on Oceania, with its flawless beauty and untainted shores, but going anywhere in a hurry was near impossible.

Riku barely registered his duffel slapping against his thigh as he ran through the residential section of the island. Suddenly thankful that his house was the closest to the beach out of all twelve or so families in stylized huts, Riku ran out, feet connecting with the shifting sand of the beach.

Nearing the dock, he jumped up onto it, too anxious to take the long way around and climb up the steps. Riku hopped from foot to foot, nervously waiting for the ferry. He had barely ten minutes to get to the game—or, he hoped. He had long since given up on wristwatches, after the first few broke from constant exposure to water and sand.

Nervously looking around him, he stopped, blinked, and ran to the edge of the wooden dock. If his rowboat was still here… If Tidus hadn't borrowed it… Riku grinned as he located his small, dark blue boat. He shoved his duffel into the boat before jauntily jumping into it himself.

He untied his old rowboat, heaving a great push in the general direction of the dock to get him started. Riku located the large wooden paddle, his hands finding the familiar grooves and slipping into proper handholds.

Easily finding the sparkling lights adorning all of Fizu, he headed off into the night.

X X X

"_Rhuten Basillocks!... Laran Fillon!" _The announcer chirped off the names of the opposing team. Even from a distance, Riku still heard all the cheers and applause from the audience.

He panted, having just made it to the Blitzball tank after running from the dock, duffel in tow. Trying to get here on the rowboat was probably the single-handedly most hare-brained scheme he had ever though of. The stupid boat had capsized after less than twelve strokes. But, the ferryman that had been heading to Fizu had kindly slowed down enough for him to catch up, and he'd gotten a lift to the industrial island. The man had even towed his relic of a rowboat back to Oceania.

Wringing his hair out as it stuck to his cheeks, Riku shoved open the double doors, trying to scurry on over to the locker room. Riku scowled as his coach intercepted him, standing starkly in his path. Eyes widening as Rochester, his coach, walked calmly up to him, hands nestled in the crooks of this waist, reprimanding and greeting him at the same time.

Riku looked ashamedly down, gulping in anticipation of a yelling. But, the coach evidently thought he was too late to be granted his yells of frustration. Instead:

"Damn, Riku. This is the _third_ time you've been late. Get out there." The tall, dark-haired man pointed an accusing finger at him, before looking over pointedly at the entrance to the tank.

Looking up, Riku offered a grin, forgoing making it into the locker room to change near the entrance. The teen rummaged through his duffel, pulling out the Destati uniform from his bag. He hastily changed, cursing the buckles and buttons that covered nearly every square foot of the outfit. He blinked as his hair fell into his face, remembering the ribbon he'd left in the uniform the last time he had worn it.

Within a minute, Riku had his hair tied and was standing next to Tidus, who unlike the rest of the team, was still out of the water, obviously waiting for him. Riku's worried expression broke out into a happy grin, pleased at his friend's devotion. His cocky expression dismissing all the hurried worrying and running of ten minutes past, he let out a small wave. Tidus looked at him, blinkingly, before answering with a happy smile.

"Riku!"

"_Tidus!_" Riku laughed, drawing out the syllables of the blonde's name.

"Alright, Riku."

"_Alright_, Tidus."

"Shut up."

"There there, ickle Tidus. No need to get all pushy."

Riku blew a kiss, diving into the tank with an oddly misplaced elegance. Tidus growled, fuming at the stupid silver-haired nutcase. He'd _waited_ for Riku, and what thanks did he get?

Nothing, of course.

Oh, Riku was going to _pay._

X X X

So far, the game was tied. Surprisingly so, since the Lochs were reputed to have a weak defense, but a particularly horrible offense. Actually, only one player seemed to be any good at scoring—a surprisingly bulky orange-haired player—and the rest just seemed to be lumbering around, taking up space. The goalie wasn't that bad when she was concentrating, but she had been keener on flirting at the start of the game. Now, during the last two minutes of the game, she had made up for it, barely letting any scores get through.

Riku himself had scored exactly one goal, in a rather unconventional way. It had been the most painfully executed goal in the game so far, and Riku had a bruise to show for it. Riku had been wading near the Loch's goal post, watching the game carefully, when Tidus saw it fit to get him back for their brief exchange of words. The blitzball had come out of nowhere, or seemingly so, and had hit him—_hard—_on the side of his face. Surprisingly, the ball had arched off his face, cutting through the water, and had landed in between the goalie's outstretched hands.

That, Riku thought, rubbing his cheek, had been the highlight of the game. Tidus had scored the other two goals, exploiting his uncanny grace in the water, the same grace that was nonexistent out of the Blitzball tank. Tidus had his own style of playing, an indescribable flavor that tinted his every move. And, as much as Riku hated to admit it, he was envious of it. He himself preferred the land, being much better with fencing and mock swordplay than water sports.

Looking back over at the mob that surrounded Tidus and another of his teammates, Riku realized with an unpleasant shock, that there was less than thirty seconds until the end of the game. The score was still three to three, but it would hurt if the Destati Demons were tied to the Loch Myriad. Racing to the other side of the tank, near the other goal post, Riku watched as Tidus attempted his ever-famous 'Jecht shot'. Fortunately, the ball wasn't intercepted, but it was steering off course.

Riku concentrated, drowning out all the noise, all the fans cheering, all the waterlogged blitzers coming towards him. He swam quickly, focusing only on the ball. The plummeting ball was almost in reach… A few more feet, that's all… And…

There.

Riku reached the speeding blitzball, grinning maniacally as he elbowed it into the goal post—barely making it before the buzzer sounded off.

The crowds erupted, bringing Riku out of his focused trance, and he swiveled around, taking in all of the screaming audience. He turned back to the tank looking for Tidus's grinning face. Riku found him easily, the ecstatic blond not something easily missed. Tidus was motioning with his hands, not being able to talk in the water. Riku flashed him a quick thumbs-up, swimming to the exit out of the tank and back towards the locker room.

X X X

Riku stepped out of the locker room, running his hands through his hair. It was still a bit damp, and smelled funky. He made a mental not to make sure he wouldn't forget to take another shower back at home, this time using loads of his shampoo.

He paused, looking around for Tidus, but not seeing him anywhere, Riku went on to greet the rival team. Politely nodding and shaking hands, Riku congratulated each player on a game well played. He gave the tall tanned player a warm greeting, recognizing his talent. Riku turned away after a last word, strolling over to the rest of the team.

Riku leant his forehead against the wall, its cold feel soothing him. Not that he needed to be calmed, but after the surprisingly exhausting game, all he wanted to do was sleep.

Startled, Riku nearly fell to the floor as Tidus slapped his back, greeting him with his usual cheer.

"Dude, that was awesome. Great game!"

Riku mumbled a reply, yawning as he rubbed at his eyes.

Tidus blinked, his happy expression sliding off his face. He leaned in, looking Riku directly in his eyes.

"You're… Want to go home?"

Riku smiled, nodding thankfully.

Worry flickered across Tidus's blue eyes, before being replaced by the sparkle from his carefree grin. Riku heaved himself off the wall, stretching a bit before deftly catching the duffel bag Tidus chucked at him. Riku followed Tidus as he made his way to the large double-doored exit, in the process, zipping up his duffel so the wet uniform stayed inside.

Stepping outside the small stadium, Riku squinted in the waning sun, taking in the dark opals and blues of the wispy clouds. Tidus, still walking ahead, stopped abruptly when he saw a tall, muscular figure depositing a bag of wet clothed in a trunk of a car. With his bright orange hair and tan a shade darker than most, Riku identified him as the star player for the other Blitzball team. Riku wracked his brain for a name to put with the face. Chappa or Takka or something…

Riku whistled, noticing the car, and noting it as ridiculously expensive. So Kuppa was rich. Cocking his head, Riku figured that they probably lived here, on Fizu, the main island.

"Wakka!" Tidus yelled, gesturing avidly with his arms.

Oh. Well, he was close.

Riku sighed, running his hand through his hair, amusedly watching Tidus talk to the Loch.

Better get home soon.

X X X

Sleeping peacefully on top of the covers of his bed, his long silver hair splayed out against the striped green of his bedspread, his arms shielding his face from the obdurate sun, Riku wasn't fully prepared for his morning.

With a crazy, fast-paced pickup, his piercingly loud alarm clock, his sinfully high-pitched Destarola phone, his hollering mother, and even the _birds_ outside clamored into a scandalously discordant orchestration. Then, the loud beeping of the washing machine sliced through the growing crescendo, morphing it all into hysteria.

Blinking drowsily through the clamor, Riku groped blindly for his phone, finding the paopu charm and pulling it onto his bed. He wearily pulled it open, rubbing his eyes as he yawned onto the receiver.

"…'ello?" He spoke loudly, trying to make himself be heard over the slowly waning notes of his morning call.

_"You lazy ass. Are you still sleeping?"_ The fog residing in Riku's mind started to recede as he recognized the sound of Tidus's voice.

"Maybe…"

_"You brat, get up and log on." _

"Whaddya talking 'bout?" Riku's speech still came across as slurred, his tongue being inactive for the better part of the last thirteen hours.

_"Holy_ Ansem_, Riku. Did you forget?" _

"I dunno."

"_Chaos? We finally got to World Three, remember?" _

"…Oh, yeaaah." Riku rolled over onto his stomach, scratching unconsciously at his navel as he climbed off his bed.

_"Aruna was right. You really **are **hopeless." _Tidus's exasperated tone came through clearly, and Riku smiled.

"Hold on, and I'll be online soon." He held his phone up with his shoulder and jawbone as he stretched.

Then… His stomach rumbled.

From the phone, Riku heard Tidus's bursting laughter.

_"**Man**, that was loud. I heard you from _here_, Riku. Go get something to eat and I'll catch up." _

That being said and done, Riku muttered a few last minute good-byes before clipping off the phone. He pulled a worn white tank top on, and headed down for breakfast.

X X X

Riku booted up his computer, idly fingering the black wire for his headset. Impatiently, he tapped his fingers against the cold slate of his desk as the computer took its sweet time in starting up.

He yawned, fanning himself slowly with his hands. It was barely the middle of spring, but the weather was smothering in its unbearable hotness. He pulled at the drawstring of his pajamas, the moist cotton clinging uncomfortably to his skin. Riku glanced over at the window, assuring himself that it was fully open, before looking back to his monitor. The black screen showed a slowly moving _'Resuming'_ screen.

_Riiiing! Br-iiing! _

He was startled out of staring blankly at the screen with the distant ring of a phone, but he dismissed it. His mom was home, wasn't she? He cupped his chin with his hand, resting his elbow on the cool surface of his desk.

And then from the muffled sound of a shower came; "Honey? Can you pick that up for me?"

Emitting a loud groan, Riku stood up, before realizing that he had no clue where the wireless was. He sped into fast motion, dashing around his room, flinging clothes and assorted memorabilia around, in hopes of finding the noisemaking machine.

_Riiiing! Br-iiing!_

"Dammit, hold on!"

Riku flung his door open, sprinting down the stairs three at a time, before hastily scrambling for the phone on the kitchen countertop.

"…H-Hello?" He managed in between pants.

"Oi, Riku! This is Ti-_dus_!" The blond on the other end of the line chirped eagerly.

"Yes, Ti-_dus_? Weren't we supposed to meet back at Miza Craters?" Riku slumped on the wall, flicking a sweaty strand of hair out of his face.

"Oh, you remembered! Yeah, but I got tired of waiting for you, so meet me at the 1st District Item Shoppe in World Three, okay?"

"Tidus, I've never been to World Three, so how the hell am I supposed to find you?" Riku growled into the phone, making furious motions with his wrist. He was actually pretty angry that Tidus had gone on without him. _He_ would have waited.

"Oh, no, you can't miss it! See you there!" Tidus announced, his chipper voice infuriating Riku.

"TIDU—" Riku's retort was sharply cut off by the dial tone of his phone. Oh, Tidus would _pa_y.

Riku muttered angrily as he stomped up the stairs, thinking of a hundred ways to murder Tidus for his unnatural perkiness.

He got to the landing and headed to his room, thoughts still circulating around the maddening blond. He gripped his doorknob, all pretenses indicating that he would slam it open when—

"Honey, who was it?" His mother called from the recesses of her large room, undoubtedly having just turned off the shower.

"No one Mama, just Tidus." Riku blinked darkly, waiting for a reply from his mom. When none came, he turned, pushing his door open with a dull _'creeeak'_.

X X X

When the silver-haired scythe player logged on to the massively multiplayer role-playing game, The Warmth of Chaos, he noticed a trickle of players walking through the Miza Craters to the portal to World Three. Not thinking anything of it, he made his way to the red portal.

He took a sharp breath, and stepped in.

X X X

Sinfully bright neon lights displaying the words ' Traverse Town' obscured Riku's view from the actual world, so the silver-haired player waited patiently while the words faded. When the actual world showed up, he took a step back, surprised at just how _crowded_ the place actually was.

The part of Traverse Town that was visible to him was mostly a large, open plaza with a couple of green patches with trees growing out of them. In the middle of this plaza was a raised platform which was glowing a soft pink. The platform looked almost comically out of place with dark browns and greens that the town seemed to be molded out of.

Off to a side were a couple of round tables, each with a dully flickering pair of tan candles. And behind him, was a couplet of double doors, which he surmised was the concealed portal back to World Two. And there, off in the distance, were a couple of buildings, one near the front with a bright neon green sign tacked on above its overhang.

The most surprising feature of the place was quite possibly the sheer amount of assorted players roaming around.

There were so many types of people milling about, pressed against each other, squirming and writhing against each other to try and get closer to the faintly pink glowing platform that seemed to be the main source of attraction to these people.

Riku subconsciously withdrew his scythe, not wanting to accidentally stab another player and unwittingly start a fight. He didn't really get what was going on, but if he didn't know, than it probably wasn't important. But where was the First District?

Clueless, Riku stared incredulously at those ridiculous people. Shrugging a bit, he looked around, noticing players loitering outside of the original mob. Choosing a pair that looked relatively harmless, he went to them.

**sylver.scythe **Uhm, hi.

**sprouthead69** Hello.

**THExFlora** Hello.

Blinking owlishly at their ludicrous names, he plunged forward.

**sylver.scythe **You wouldn't happen to know where the First District is, would you?

**sprouthead69 **You are here.

**sylver.scythe** You mean, _this_ is the First District?

**THExFlora **Bingo.

**sylver.scythe** But, then—

**sprouthead69** Sorry hun, but we've gotta see who won the hidden level. They're saying its some shrimp…

The pair of axeblades traipsed away, leaving Riku little better off than before. Sighing, Riku tried to remember exactly where he had to meet Tidus. Didn't he say the Item Shoppe or something? Riku turned around, looking towards the buildings he'd seen before, and—Aha. There was the Item Shoppe. Or, at least, Riku hoped so, because the large neon green lettering on the front of the shop said, quite clearly, "Items".

Groaning, Riku realized that to get to the shop, he'd have to part the swarming ocean of anxious players. There was _no bloody way_ he'd be able to get through that mob—at least without losing a life.

Mumbling, Riku set out to do just that, diving into the throng of people, pushing and shoving people to the side as he struggled to get through. He kept his eyes locked onto the neon sign as he jostled and was jostled about, pressed from all sides by shrieking players. Perhaps that was the reason he was thus unprepared for the simultaneous cheers and massive applause that erupted from the cluster of wiggling bodies.

Startled, he looked up, only to be blinded by a sinfully bright light emanating from the stage. Yowling in agony, he brought up a green-clothed arm to swipe at his eyes. Harshly rubbing at his left eye, he squinted into the dimming orange light. He could barely make out the silhouette of a rather short, slight figure. As the light completely faded, he stared, gaping at the player sheepishly waving to the crowd of bodies. The mob, similarly, had been stunned to silence; incredulous that a puny shrimp could have won the hidden level tournament against much, _much_, more fit opponents.

Riku stood oblivious, eyes wide and mouth cemented into a gape.

The nervous player on the stage seemed to shrink into himself, before running a hand haphazardly through his hair.

**beyondoblivion** So _this_ is how Fat Bandits feel. No wonder they spit fire.

X X X

It's short, it's late, it hardly makes sense, and it's pretty lacking.

Oh, and I also lost the document with the plot on it. Ehehe.

Nonetheless, I hope you enjoyed.

Oi, and before I get any questions, Riku has a cell phone to where Tidus called in the morning, and a regular home phone to where Tidus called later on in the day.

And this is still unedited. I looked over it thrice, but, y'know. I'm no beta.


End file.
